His worst nightmare and greatest comfort
by Tacroy
Summary: He's walking through the corridor. Something is wrong, but he doesn't know what. The silence is everywhere and the darkness is so compact. Something is very wrong... MattMohinder


**AN: **Okay. My second Heroesfic in just a few days. I own nothing (and I'm sorry for that) (but I do own the story) but anyway...hope you like it.

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He's walking thorough the corridor to the apartment that he shares with Matt. Something's not like it should. He can feel it, in his heart. He can't say what it is, just that something is wrong. It rushes him. He's standing in front of the apartment's door, his hand upon the doorknob. He's breathing's heavy. He wants to open the door, wants to come home. But the feeling of discomfort is so strong that he would rather turn around and run. Run for his life. Run and never come back. He fights those urges, concentrates on the door. He opens it. The silence from the apartment hits him, almost throwing him of his feet. It shouldn't be this quiet. It's still early in the evening. He should be hearing Molly complaining about Matt's bad cooking. He should be hearing Matt defend himself saying that Mohinder's the cook in the family. He should be hearing some stupid sport on TV. But nothing. Just silence. He carefully walks in, keeping his guard up. The silence is almost as compact as the dark. No lights are on. All the curtains are covering the windows, letting in none of the evening's lights. With his hand he looks for the switch to light the room. He finds it, but it doesn't work. He's getting frustrated. 

- Hello!? Is anybody home?

No reply. He thinks that maybe Matt and Molly are joking with him. Soon they will turn the lights on and scream something to surprise him. He takes comfort in that thought as he walks further. But nothing happens.

- Matthew? Molly? Are you there?

The only answer he gets is silence.

Suddenly the door closes behind him with a loud bang. He jumps and turns around. But there is nothing for him to see. Only more darkness. The feeling of something being wrong is much stronger. He can barely control his breathing as panic rises inside of him. He almost runs the few steps to the door just to get out. He tries to open the door, but it's locked. He tries to unlock it. He tries everything, but the door won't move. The panic is getting closer to the surface as he's beginning to feel trapped. He backs away from the door. Cold sweat breaks through on his forehead. He makes his way to the bedroom. There's a phone in there. He can call Matt on his cell. Call him at work. Call the police. Call anyone. When he enters the bedroom he tries desperately to turn the lights on, hopping that they will work in here. But they don't. In the dark he finds the phone. He picks it up and is about to dial the number when he feels that something is missing. He pauses and listens. And there is nothing to hear. Just silence. No signal from the phone, it's dead. He breathes even faster. Fear is rising in him. He sits down on the bed, not knowing what to do. He tries to focus, calm his breath, calm himself down. Don't listen to the thoughts in his head that tells him that something is wrong. Just concentrate.

Suddenly he feels frozen. He tries to move, but he can't. He's stuck. He can only move his head. He turns it to the door as he hears someone else's breath. He tries to speak, but the voice gets stuck in his throat. The light goes on and he's temporarily blinded by the chock of it. When his vision is cleared he sees the other person in the door. He can feel all the colour in his face disappear. In the doorway stands a tall dark haired man who looks coldly at him.

- Hello Mohinder, the man says.

- Sylar.

It's just a whisper from Mohinder's lips, but the murderer can hear him. He smiles, if possible, even colder. Mohinder turns away from him. He looks down on the bed. The red covers…the red covers? The covers have always been white. He raises his glare a little to see the source of the redness. He almost throws up at the sight. He wants to turn his head away. Wants to close his eyes. He wants to do anything, except seeing what he is seeing. But his head is frozen at the spot. In front of him is Matt laying with his arms wrapped around Molly. Fear is the only thing that their faces are showing. But that's not what makes Mohinder sick. It's the fact that their scalps are gone, and their brains are missing. In the distance he can hear Sylar's laugh. He can't focus on anything. He tries to scream, but he doesn't know if any sound comes over his lips. He tries to cry out his pain, but he feels empty. Everything he loves is gone, lost forever. He wants to get out of the bed, throw himself at Sylar and kill him with his bare hands. He screams again. Louder. He can hear how it blends with Sylar's hysterical laugh. The world starts to spin in front of him. Round and round. He screams. Sylar laughs. And somewhere in the distance he can hear someone calling his name. Everything shakes. His body's shaking hard. The voice that calls his name is closer. But his own scream is still louder.

- Mohinder! Wake up!

He sits up, still screaming, and opens his eyes. The nightlight is turned on spreading a warm light in the room. He's panting while he focus his glance.

- Are you alright?

He turns his head around and sees Matt sitting next to him, looking at him with a worried look. Mohinder can feel the tears that runs down his cheek. Matt carefully wipes them away before putting his arms around the Indian.

- You where dead, Mohinder softly whispers.

- What?

- You where dead. You and Molly. Sylar killed you.

Matt pulls him closer for comfort.

- You where dead. Gone. And he laugh.

- Hey. We're not dead. I'm here and Molly is sleeping in her own bed.

Mohinder nods softly but he can't stop crying. Matt puts his other arm around the crying man, pulls him as close as possible and whispers softly to him.

- It was just a nightmare. You've been through so much, so I don't blame you. But Sylar will never get to us. I promise. I will always be here. And so will Molly. Always.

Mohinder stops crying and just lets Matt hold him. Matt is strong. He can chase away all nightmares. Mohinder lifts is head a little and whispers in Matt's ear.

- Thank you.

Matt says nothing, he just smiles.

After a while he lets go of Mohinder and gets up to get to his own bed. But Mohinder grabs his hand. He looks down on him and sees a scared man, almost a child.

- Please. Can't you stay?

Matt looks puzzled.

- Here? In your bed?

- Please. I don't want to be alone.

The fear and begging in his voice finds its way to Matt's heart. And when he sees it in Mohinder's eyes he knows that the man needs him, possibly even more than any of them know.

- Okay. I'll stay.

Mohinder smiles at him as he moves aside in his bed to make room for Matt. Matt lays down behind Mohinder, close so that they both will fit in the bed. He pulls up the sheet to cover them both. Then he puts his arm around Mohinder's waist. He picks up a stray thought from Mohinder as he settles down.

_His knees fits so good in mine. Please let us stay like this forever._

He smiles when he hears it, 'cause he just thought the same thing. Mohinder's breathing is getting more relaxed. He feels the Indians hair against his cheek and can't help himself as he takes a deep breath just to imprint his scent. Then he gently places a kiss on Mohinder's cheek.

- Thank you, Mohinder says as he cuddles closer to Matt and falls asleep, safe and sound.


End file.
